


You Are Safe

by Dentss



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Kidnapping, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dentss/pseuds/Dentss
Summary: Hannibal comes to save Will after he's been kidnapped
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 136





	You Are Safe

Not even an inch of silver moonlight filtered in between the steel bars separating Will from the world and the musty room he was sitting in. When Hannibal found him, and he was alone, he made sure of it, Will was half-awake, covered in dirt and blood. His face was bruised, evidently from a recent scuffle, and he was slouched against the stained wall, hands and feet tied with strong but worn rope. There was no doubt about whether or not the man had been struggling. Will was not one to sit by and stay put in this situation, and it seemed that his insistence had not only earned him injuries but an even closer grasp of freedom. Not close enough, however.

No, the only reason Will was still alive was thanks to Hannibal’s diligent (and reckless) action. The FBI were unwilling to go so suddenly, stuck on some other errand and wanting to prepare. Dr. Lecter would not risk Will’s life with waiting.

Immediately after Hannibal entered the room, Will began to struggle again, kicking his legs and pushing himself back into the furthest corner of the room, grabbing a sharp discarded object – glass, it seemed – and holding it like a knife. His eyes were illuminated by the faint light offered from the open door, glinting with resentment. Hannibal had to remind himself that it was not directed at him but rather the captor, a man who had been promptly taken care of.

“Will,” Hannibal cooed, maintaining his usual calm demeanour despite the rage bubbling in his heart. The other seemed to relax a little at the sound of his voice, but immediately tensed back up as his mind wandered.

“Is- is this some kind of torture?” he hissed, squeezing the glass in his palms, unintentionally drawing blood. “Leave him out of this!”

“Will,” Hannibal repeated, taking a step closer, “this is no torture. You are hurting your hands.”

He didn’t even look down, instead pointing the glass in his bound hands out in front of him, shaking wildly. “Is he using you? Where’s Jack?”

“He is not a problem,” the doctor assured him, though he didn’t show Will the blood all over his hands. “Jack is assembling a rescue party, but they had to prepare. I came sooner.”

 _“Why?”_ Will asked, genuine confusion filling his faltering voice. “No, Hannibal wouldn’t do this. You’re not real. I need- I need my aspirin.”

“I am really here, Will. It is not your captor. You are safe now,” Hannibal insisted, stepping forth again. The light was beginning to illuminate his features now, revealing his face to Will, who stared up at him with both fear and relief. He was no doubt questioning whether he was seeing his captor in Hannibal’s form or the real thing. “This is not your mind deceiving you. I am here.”

Still shaking with no sign of stopping, Will lowered the glass and allowed it to drop between his legs, clattering quietly to the cold floor. Hannibal could see now how badly his hands had been cut. Blood dripped between his fingers. The doctor was glad he had brought some bandages. They were in the pocket of his blazer – he’d gotten no time to get dressed – so he took them and knelt in front of Will, holding out his free hand for Will to take it.

“You’re- why are you covered in blood? Your suit,” he stammered, clearly shocked and paranoid. There was no doubt he was expecting to see his captor come through the door, armed and prepared to attack. He reached out, offering his tied hands.

“How did he treat you, Will?” Hannibal asked as he tenderly treated the wounds, conscious that they would have to be further cleaned when home thanks to the filthy glass.

“Well I’m hungry,” he answered darkly, head tilted down to watch the bandages being set onto his wounds, “and in pain. I-I think I’ve been off my medication this whole time. My head hurts, a-and he made it worse.”

Hannibal’s silence radiated a primal rage. He hadn’t been prepared to kill that night, but Will’s captor deserved it tenfold. He wouldn’t tell Will about the murder. To him it would be an accident that happened in the middle of a fight, and it would be that to everyone else too. If Will knew he would be angry or upset or would ignore him. Murder was not a light thing to the man, not by any stretch, and Hannibal was not going to take his chances.

He reached to grab the other thing he’d brought with him, a simple scalpel, which he used to cut the rope. Hannibal wanted to hold Will, to hold him close and comfort him, to run fingers through his messy hair. But he refrained, respecting that he would likely not appreciate that in his current situation. Later he would make sure to do it, though, to make him feel safe, indestructible. Will stayed where he sat, trembling and hyperventilating.

“You must breathe,” Hannibal instructed, meeting Will’s eyes when they lifted to meet his. “You are safe. Tell me Will, can you breathe for me?”

He nodded, making a conscious effort to follow the exaggerated sound of Hannibal’s rhythmic breathing. He was still not calm by the end of it, but he could at least control it, able now to at least stand. His legs shook, and Hannibal reached an arm around him before he could fall, holding him up. Hannibal was overwhelmed with the smell of a man that had been trapped for a week, unable to wash or medicate or even move when he wasn’t allowed to. It sickened him, but not more than the mistreatment of his Will. Nobody would hurt him like that.

Hannibal and Will staggered out of the house together, silent apart from their breathing, to the sight of flashing lights. Hannibal sheltered the other’s eyes, though he did not block them, and he kept his arm firm around his shoulders, even when they staggered forth to meet Jack, and after that.


End file.
